


Chapter 3: Clear Skies

by distantlight



Series: Albus & Scorpius: Life Is Simple In The Moonlight [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, LGBT, M/M, Quidditch, Romance, Scorbus, Sexual, albus - Freeform, kiss, lake, queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:15:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantlight/pseuds/distantlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius is regaining his energy and swagger. After he stars in the tense Griffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match, Albus invites him to the lake for a moonlit evening of skinny dipping and romance. Meanwhile, a familiar face returns to teach Potions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 3: Clear Skies

**Author's Note:**

> Got a bit carried away with this chapter, apologies if it is a bit long! My Order of the Phoenix moment, if you will.
> 
> Chapter 3 of the [Albus & Scorpius: Life Is Simple In The Moonlight](http://archiveofourown.org/series/539242) series.

Scorpius returned to the castle early on Friday morning. It was a crisp, autumnal sort of day, and the first frost of the year had stiffened the leaves that crunched under his feet as he walked up to the huge oak door. His cheeks were glowing slightly red from the cold air. 

Albus immediately noticed the spring in his step and the glint in his eye, when they met in the Great Hall over a breakfast of smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. He also noticed with interest the silver stud that now rested in Scorpius' tongue - piercings were extremely rare in the wizarding world. Whatever Scorpius had been doing while away seemed to have worked - Albus had rarely seen him looking better or more attractive. His arrogant strut of a walk had returned, exuding haughty adolescent sexuality. Albus tried to be happy his friend was healthy rather than turned on by his regained confidence.

“Hang on, why are you sat on the Ravenclaw table?” asked Scorpius, suddenly noticing an eagle crest on the robes of the students sitting nearby.

“Meant to be spending time with Paris Black, aren’t I,” said Albus glumly, jerking his head towards the empty chair on his right and then up towards Professor McGonagall who was sat looking stern and upright at the head of the staff table. “Making him stay out of trouble and helping him with his studies.”

“Ah, right, yeah. How’s that going?”

“See for yourself,” replied Albus, pointing to the Griffindor table, where Paris was crouched behind Rose Weasley with a tray of ice cubes. As she leaned forward, he poured the ice down her back, making her leap up with a yelp of outrage.

“You little twerp,” she shouted, making a grab for his robes just too late as he sprinted away in the distance and high fived a friend, backing out of the hall sticking his tongue out at Rose.

“You’re a natural,” said Scorpius to Albus, who returned to his salmon with rolled eyes. “His conduct is improving by the day. Must be your natural air of authority.”

“The only way I’d get him to follow my instructions is by putting him under the Imperius Curse,” muttered Albus. “I was bloody tempted the other day. Started teaching him how to make an Engorgement Potion for his homework, and caught him trying to use it on his cock! Said he wanted to impress Rose, he’s infatuated with her. He only turned thirteen last week, just started his second year. I didn’t even know what sex was at his age!”

 

“Like hell you didn’t, what about that magazine you found hidden in your fathers paperwork, _Quidditch Queens Disrobed_? We used to read that every night under the covers.”

“Oh yeah,” said Albus offhandedly, as if he hadn’t masturbated over that memory several times in the last month alone. He and Scorpius, in their pajamas, huge bulges prodding out of the bottoms, rubbing their penises while excitedly flicking through the photos of amateur Quidditch players posing alluringly naked except for their brooms.

“Well, you tell Paris to stay away from Rose – she is all mine! She can’t hate me forever, not with this face. So...did it work?” asked Scorpius.

“Did what work?”

“The engorgement charm, of course! Could come in handy.”

From the bulge Albus had seen through those pajama bottoms, Scorpius didn’t need any help with the size of his member.

“Oh, that. Not really, as far as I know. He didn’t seem too happy with the results – luckily I had some of that antidote we cooked up last year to reverse the process. McGonagall would have gone ape – told me to help him with his homework and he ends up in the hospital wing with his cock shaped like a wonky parsnip of something. Speaking of potions, I better get going – got to be there in five minutes.”

“Who’s filling in for Professor Constantine?” asked Scorpius.

“Who knows,” said Albus, dragging his bag around his shoulders and setting off to the dungeons. “See you tonight,” he called behind him. “Want to hang out after the Quidditch match?”

“Yeah, are you coming to watch?”

“Of course. I’ll meet you in the changing rooms afterwards.”

 

\--

 

Albus broke into a run and caught up with his cousin Rose Weasley, unmistakable as she swept down the corridor with flowing red hair billowing behind her. Slytherin and Griffindor students took potions together.

“Your death eater boyfriend not with you?” she asked with a smirk.

“Not a death eater, not my boyfriend, not back in class until next week,” sighed Albus.

“Shame, you two look so cute together. I might start shipping you.”

“Shipping us?” said Albus nonplussed.

“It’s a Muggle term my friend Grace taught me, never mind. Who d’ya think the substitute potions teacher is going to be?”

“How should I know?” replied Albus. “Sit next to me will you? Don’t want to get landed near Alice Fairweather again.”

“If I must,” replied Rose airily.

“Thanks,” said Albus.

Rose gasped as they entered the classroom. The usually dark, damp dungeon had been transformed – violet scented candles flickered on every surface, lilac velvet tapestries sparkling with glitter hung on every wall, and instead of the usual hard wooden chair at the back of the room there was a luxurious pink armchair. In it sat the most beautiful man Albus had ever seen. His lush, golden hair was slicked back into a hipster top knot, accentuating his glorious bone structure with eyes that shone.

The man raised himself to his feet and lifted his hand to silence the class. His sky blue robes hung perfectly off his firm, muscled body.

“Good morning! As I’m sure you're all aware, my name is Gilderoy Lockhart. Order of Merlin, Third Class! Founding member of the Dark Forces Defence League! Seven time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile award. Back at Hogwarts by popular demand!”

“Gilderoy Lockhart?” whispered Albus to Rose. “Isn't he that writer who went crazy and ended up in a mental hospital? I’m sure my father talked about him.”

“Yeah,” Rose whispered back. “But they found some new cure a couple of years ago and put him right. It was all over the news, a major breakthrough.”

“It was all rather fortunate, really,” continued Lockhart. “My old friend Minerva needed a potions tutor at short notice, and there I was doing a photo shoot for my annual Christmas calendar in Hogsmeade. I agreed to return immediately! Incidentally, the festive calendar will be available from all good retailers and via mail order at the very reasonable price of One Galleon, for those who are interested,” he added with a wink.

“I’m sure he used to teach when our parents were here,” said Albus to Rose in a low voice. “But he looks too young for that.”

“Maybe he has done some anti-aging charm or something. Or he just has a mirror in his attic. He is beautiful.”

“I will of course by happy to sign your copies of the calendar with a personal message,” beamed Lockhart, before he noticed Rose & Albus whispering. “Pay attention,” he barked. “I didn’t gain the skills that helped me fight off four trolls single-handed in Kenya by chattering away in the back of class. But...if it isn’t...good lord, are you the son of Harry Potter?”

Albus blushed – he hated being known as _The Son of Harry Potter_ rather than as himself.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Oh my word, your father and I had some japes!” said Lockhart with a charming giggle. “I suppose he told you all about the time I saved his life and fought off the Heir of Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Well...” started Albus hesitantly.

“And of course, there are many who credit his long sessions in my classroom learning how to fight off the dark arts as the biggest reason he was able to topple You-Know-Who!”

So Albus was stuck with him all lesson. Lockhart pulled up a fluffy stool next to the desk and spent the next hour reminiscing as Rose gazed up at him with glazed eyes. 

“The man is a fraud,” said Albus as he walked to Herbology with Rose. “My father said he made up all the stuff he writes about in his books. He’s just really good at memory charms so he takes credit for things other people have done and modifies their memory, it is disgraceful really-”

But Rose had fallen behind, and was giggling with her friends about Lockhart’s pearly white teeth and smooth, elegant hands.

He’s not a patch on Scorpius, thought Albus, wondering whether to skive off and meet his friend in the common room. In the end he fought the urge and forced himself to the greenhouses for two hours of cactus maintenance techniques.

 

\--

 

Albus was still picking the cactus thorns out of his hands as he walked to the Quidditch Stadium with a hyperactive Paris Black at half seven that evening. Night matches had recently been introduced in the house championship, and the atmosphere was always more electric under the floodlights.

Paris was unmistakably a descendant of Sirius Black, with his dark jet hair and dark, mysterious eyes. Just after leaving school, Sirius had an affair with a barmaid at the Leaky Cauldron which resulted in the secret birth of Paris’ father, Tobias Black. Tobias had been brought up by his mother in Australia, and married a girl from one of the oldest wizarding families in Canberra. After Paris had been born, they moved to Scotland to run a hotel for firewhiskey enthusiasts on Skye. Paris had never met his grandfather Sirius but had heard plenty of stories from Harry, and was determined to follow in his trouble making ways.

“Come _here_ ,” said Albus to him as Paris started to shoot off again having seen a girl he knew. “I’m meant to be keeping an eye on you, remember.”

“I can look after myself,” said Paris dancing around him. “You ought to be concentrating on getting a date for the Yule Ball. I got mine aaaaages ago.”

“Some of us are more selective,” said Albus with a condescending look, but he had to admit the boy had a point. In an ideal world, of course, he would have gone stag with Scorpius, but he knew his friend would be going with a girl, and he knew how much of a loser he would look if he turned up alone.

They were fifteen minutes early for the match, and the anticipation had built to a fever pitch by the time the teams swept out on their brooms. It was a cold, dry night with a clear starry sky, and the stands were completely full, with students from all houses excited for what always proved to be the most aggressive and eventful match of the season – Griffindor v Slytherin.

Scorpius did a loop on his broom and stuck his newly pierced tongue out at Albus, which glinted under the pure white glare of the lights. He was one of the three Slytherin chasers, tasked with firing the quaffle through the hoops standing sixty foot in the sky, and trying to score as many points as possible before the snitch was captured. He would be directly opposing Rose Weasley, a talented flier who was looking determined and steely glaring at her opponents in crimson Griffindor robes.

Madame Hooch blew her whistle to start the game, which began as a tight, nervous contest, with both teams playing a defensive game attempting not to concede while the seekers buzzed around trying to find the little golden snitch. 

Paris watched in awe as his twin sister Selena Black glided through the clear night skies with effortless dexterity and grace, eyes narrow and focused looking for a glint of gold. She was the Griffindor seeker, having been the youngest house player since Harry Potter. Although it was generally agreed that Selena was the most naturally gifted player in the entire school, she had the same rash, exhibitionist streak as her brother and lacked focus. 

Tonight, however, she was flying with more purpose than ever before, glint in her eyes and fire in her belly. The Slytherin seeker was left grasping at air as she feinted and swiveled, pulling into fifty foot dives and then hurtling upwards, leaving him floundering on the grass after being unable to halt his momentum.

Griffindor were soon thirty points ahead and the Slytherin section of the crowd was getting angry. Scorpius in particular was coming in for abuse – he seemed to have lost his energy from earlier in the day, and was putting in a lackluster performance, being outstripped by the rapid Griffindor chasers time and time again. Unaware of what was around him, a bludger smashed him right into the abdomen, leaving him bent over and coughing as Rose zipped by the make it 40-0.

“Sort your head out, Scorpius,” came one shout from the terraces.

“You’re totally bloody useless, Scorpius” came a more abusive catcall.

The Griffindor crowd was gloating at the score, starting a Mexican wave which was completed by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff supporters, all of whom hated Slytherin. Scorpius shook himself, trying to regain his composure. He flew high into the air until he was level with the floodlights and his lithe, blond body was silhouetted against the blinding florescent light. Albus saw him reach into his pockets and raise his hand to his face, giving a grimace as he dove down back into position. He took out a bottle of water and poured it all over his face and hair, and shouted _“Come on!”_ to his teammates.

Scorpius suddenly quivered with life – his eyes went wide and determined, his body started to shake with pent up energy. His face brimmed with confidence and euphoria. In the half an hour that followed, he zoomed around at a speed that seemed barely possible, cutting through the opposition like a sharp razor blade and launching the spherical red ball into the hoops again and again. 

The quaffle seemed magnetically drawn to his hands, his understanding with his teammates became telepathic. Albus had never seen anyone with such vitality and could scarcely believe the transformation of Scorpius from lethargic dead-weight to the supreme, driving athlete who was destroying the reigning house champions. He shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, noticing the protruding, throbbing rod that had appeared in his robes, turned on by the brilliance and athleticism of his friend. He was grateful Paris was so fixated on the game and hadn’t noticed.

After forty minutes Slytherin led by 330 points to 50, and Scorpius had scored a record 310 points for his side. No individual player had ever scored more in a house game. The Griffindor team were shell-shocked and had no answer. Their fans were in a strange limbo between being crestfallen at the score and awestruck at what they were seeing. The Slytherin’s were jubilant and chanting _‘There’s only one Malfoy’_.

Selena Black suddenly surged upwards in a propulsive forward motion towards the crowd in the main stand. Albus had mere seconds to jump out of the way as she sped towards him, hand outstretched. It looked for all the world like she would crash headfirst into the seats, but in a majestic maneuver she changed direction with the flexibility of a gymnast, swerved away and did a lap of honor clutching the golden snitch in her hand to a mixture of bemusement, cheers and jeers from the crowd. She had gained 150 points for her team and the match was over.

The Slytherin supporters roared with delight – despite not capturing the snitch, they had won. Scorpius had touched down on the pitch and was being mobbed by his teammates.  
“What the hell was that!” shouted Rose as she met Selena on the grass below. “We just lost, 330 points to 200! You’re meant to get the snitch when we are less than one hundred and fifty points behind, you stupid little cretin!” 

“Oi, get off her case, Rose,” said her fellow chaser Carmen Beckett. “We were never going to win, not with Scorpius Malfoy in that form. She was just ending the game on our terms.”

“Seeking the glory for herself, more like,” spat Rose. “You’re so bloody selfish, Selena. This is meant to be a team game.”

“Whatever,” said Selena, sweeping her dark hair back nonchalantly. “At least I did my job – not my fault you are such a bad chaser, not my fault that you bottled it and couldn’t score enough points to keep us in it.” Selena finished putting her lipstick on, turning her luscious lips a deep black, and sauntered away, giving the middle finger to Rose as she went.

Rose felt anger bubbling inside, and raised her wand – but before she could fire off a curse, she was hit in the ribs by a bludger that the stocky Slytherin beater Vince Crane had shot at her. The crack of bone shattering was sickening, and Rose fell to the ground.

“What do you think you’re doing, attacking your own teammate!” shouted Vince standing over her. “While her back was turned as well. You’re such a bitter los-“

Before he could finish his sentence he was knocked to the floor with a punch to the side of his head. Scorpius had flown in, face flushed with aggression, and now leaped on top of Vince firing incredibly rapid, powerful punches down on his own teammate.

“How dare you attack her!” shouted Scorpius, continuing to rain down blows.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” chanted the crowd, as the rest of the Slytherin team tried to separate their two players, and the teachers rushed down from the stands to deal with the commotion.

Eventually a group of people were able to get in between Scorpius, who was already sporting the beginnings of a black eye, and Vince, whose face was covered in blood from the repeated punches. Rose was being helped to her feet in tears, barely able to stand.

“Hey Rose,” shouted Scorpius with grin, “Will you go to the Yule Ball with me? You’ve got to now; I’m your knight in shining armor!”

“No I will not,” she sobbed, limping off the pitch with the help of Madame Pomfrey. “Just piss off, all of you!”

Scorpius collapsed onto his back and stared up at the sky feeling suddenly melancholic, wondering how his mood could change so suddenly from elation to desperation. He was overcome by cold sweats and his heart was beating unbelievably fast. He lay there for a long time calming down, taking deep breaths, until the stadium had emptied and he was alone with the moon, letting the dewy grass cool his body off. 

 

\--

 

When Scorpius finally left the pitch he found Albus looking moody, huddled alone in the dark on a wooden bench in the dressing room.

“You shouldn’t have waited for me,” said Scorpius, feeling tired and low. “You’ll be missing the celebration in the common room. “

Albus merely shrugged and smiled at him. Scorpius took off his cloak, reached over and draped it on his friend’s shoulders.

“You looked freezing,” he said by way of explanation. “I’ll just take a quick shower and be with you.”

Soap scented steam drifted from the communal shower area and Albus drank it in. He pictured Scorpius naked, with drips of water floating down his torso which was wet and gleaming. He pictured the shower gel foaming all over his body, being lathered all over his thighs and sliding over his pert, athletic bottom.

Shaking his head and cursing himself, he tried to force the images out of his mind – he could feel his cock rising already. He wished he hadn’t been so amorous lately, feeling obsessively turned on at the slightest thing. Eventually he started pacing up and down trying to memorize dates of the Goblin Rebellions for his History of Magic class, which soon reduced his member to its usual flaccid state.

Scorpius emerged wearing a pale green Slytherin bath robe, blonde hair still wet and falling sexily over his forehead in jagged formation. He pulled out his spare clothes from his bag and went into a cubicle to change, talking rapidly over the door about the match to Albus. He seemed to have regained his energy, and was positively bouncing on his heels when he emerged, wide grin on his face. Albus wondered where Scorpius was getting these sudden bursts of energy from. Still, his enthusiasm was contagious, and soon Albus was feeling euphoric and adventurous too, suggesting that they took a moonlit stroll to the far side of the lake, where an underwater volcano had erupted in the summer leaving clouds of warm sulfuric fog drifting across the surface.

And so they sat by the lake for a blissful hour, reliving the match point by point, lying on their backs looking up at the majestic castle through the strange, hanging mist that hovered on top of the water. Scorpius’ left leg was hyperactively shaking up and down in his black skinny jeans. Albus on the other hand looked for once effortlessly relaxed and cool in slim grey denim trousers, black boots and an oversized navy sports branded sweater. It brought out the color in his deep green eyes, and with his hair damp from the steam and the night air he looked soft and strangely beautiful in the half light of the orange orb they had conjured that glowed in the air. Scorpius was looking at him differently, eyes full of affection as deep in conversation they stared intensely at one and other. Nothing seemed more natural than lying here side by side, drinking in the taste of victory and the sensation of being alive and young. 

Suddenly Scorpius jumped impulsively to his feet and started taking his clothes off.

“What are you doing,” said Albus, his voice a mix of excitement and confusion.

“Going for a swim,” said Scorpius as if it was the most normal thing in the world to strip naked on a freezing winter night and leap into a lake filled with dangerous magical creatures. Before Albus had chance to dissuade him, he was down to his white boxer shorts and had dived gracefully into the dark water, barely making a splash. For thirty seconds the surface of the water became flat once more and Albus felt his stomach drop in fear. Then, thirty metres away the water stirred and Scorpius emerged with a grin, barely visible from the shoreline through the hazy fog.

“Come on in, it’s beautifully warm,” he shouted.

Albus didn’t need a second invitation, and soon he was clad in his own underwear and jumping clumsily feet first into the water, swimming powerfully across to Scorpius. Wearing wide grins they splashed water at each other, playfully pulled each other under the water, ending up spluttering and coughing due to a combination of laughter and mouths that had filled with lake water. Scorpius swam behind Albus and grabbed him by around the waist, holding on to his smooth emerging abdominal muscles and resting his head in his hair as they drifted slowly treading water. Everything became silent as they rocked slowly together in the swell.

With a deep breath Albus turned round to face his friend and pulled himself close to Scorpius’ body. They clasped onto each other tightly and Albus began to stroke Scorpius’ back tentatively under the water feeling himself tremble despite the warmth of the water as his fingers explored lower and lower. 

Scorpius felt his body tense up and his breathing became quicker as Albus began to run his hand up and down his spine, shivering as his friend began to clasp and stroke his ass on the outside of his sodden boxer shorts. Scorpius gripped his friend tightly, digging his fingers into the slim, surprisingly firm back of Albus. With an involuntarily sharp intake of breath, he realized their erections were pushing against each other in the water and began to move against his friend to create some friction. Now it was the turn of Albus to moan, shuddering with ecstasy at the friction of their sexual wands rubbing against one and other through their thin cotton pants and the water.

Scorpius grasped Albus’ face in his hands and kissed him fiercely, deep emotion coursing through his veins. Neither had felt before the electricity of such raw physicality and guttural desire. Albus raised his legs under the warm, volcanic water and wrapped them around his friend as he continued to explore his mouth, loving the metallic taste and wonderful sensation of Scorpius’ tongue stud probing his own lips and tongue, kissing each other faster and faster in a frenzy of lust and passion.

Scorpius closed his eyes and leaned into Albus’ neck, running his tongue down the side to the top of the shoulder causing his friend to groan in pleasure. Scorpius smiled and opened his eyes before suddenly stopping, his body frozen. He was sure he had seen movement on the shore, and their orb of light had been extinguished.

“What’s wrong?” asked Albus.

“Someone is watching us,” Scorpius replied, straining to see in the dark, feeling suddenly cold. “Stay here.”

Scorpius swam ashore and clambered out onto the grass. He was conscious of his half mast erection clearly visible through his soaking wet white Calvin Klein boxer shorts, which had turned almost transparent now they were filled with water. He walked back to where they had left their clothes, and his heart sank as he found the spot empty. He began searching on his hands and knees in the dark, and nearly jumped out of his skin when words came out of the black emptiness of night:

“Always knew you two were at it secretly,” said the triumphant voice. A light appeared and Vince Crane, the beater from the Quidditch team, was surveying a flustered Scorpius, who had leapt to his feet feeling vulnerable without his wand. 

“What the fuck are you talking about,” replied Scorpius angrily. “I don’t know what you think you saw-“

“-I saw you and Potter in a lip lock, wrapped around each other, that’s what I saw.”

“You saw no such fucking thing. Look how foggy the lake is, how could you see anything in this light? I was dragging him out of the water, you idiot. He was being pulled under by the squid.”

“You’ll wish that _you_ had been pulled under by the squid when I tell everyone about this!” gloated Vince. “It will be the talk of the school, Malfoy and Potter secretly bumming each other! We all suspected it was happening - it isn't natural the amount of time you two spend together.”

“What’s going on,” said Albus groggily, looming in the distance, shaking water out of his hair. “Where the hell are our clothes?”

“How long have you two been queer?” called Vince to him.

“We. Are. Not. Fucking. Queer.” said Scorpius angrily, a look of pure loathing in his eyes. “Maybe you ought to tell us what _you_ were doing, sneaking around the grounds, spying on us as we took a swim nearly naked. I think the boys in our dorm will want to hear all about that. A voyeur in our midst, leering at his naked classmates secretly.”

“ _I_ was looking for _you_. They sent me down here to look for you when I got back from the hospital wing, wanted me to bring you to the victory party to celebrate our win. I was actually going to apologize about the fight as it happens. Never _dreamed_ I’d stumble across this.”

Albus had found their clothes and was walking over, drying himself with a towel, shivering in the bitter October evening air.

“Just clear off Vince,” he said with a snarl. "This is none of your business."

“With pleasure,” Vince laughed. “I’ll be sure to raise a toast to you two being in love when I get back to the party. Smell you later!”

Still grinning, he set off up to the castle with a quick stride and a bounce in his step. _Suppose it all had to come out sometime_ , thought Albus, dragging his tight jeans up around his wet legs with difficulty. He was just doing up the buttons when he heard a shout of _“STUPEFY!”_ to his left.

Albus spun round and found Scorpius staring ahead with cold satisfaction, wand in hand, still in his underwear. A few dozen meters ahead of them the prone, stunned body of Vince Crane fell to the floor with a thump and rolled over the muddy pumpkin patch, frozen and inert.


End file.
